


Let You Know

by gestaIt



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, like extremely light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-20 19:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20680451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestaIt/pseuds/gestaIt
Summary: For once, their morning had kicked off to a simple enough start.





	Let You Know

For once, their morning had kicked off to a simple enough start.

The majority of the early hours they had spent sleeping in had gone without any disturbance from Heaven's most chattiest hunks of ivory. Most days they were lucky to still be asleep by the time the clock reached ten, even excluding the schedule of their demanding day jobs. If their alarm didn't manage to rouse them when the time came, the glowing spear of an Affinity angel crashing through their apartment usually did the trick.

In appreciation of its rarity, the two had mutually agreed to spend the remainder of their day, or at least the quiet parts of it, just as they had been. So, the two made themselves comfortable, moving from the bedroom to the living room and sharing a spot on the couch to watch whatever the local networks decided was worthy of broadcasting for the evening until they were summoned into action.

Not that there ever was anything worth watching. The most that ever caught their interest was the occasional soap opera, for how unrealistically entertaining they were, which Jeanne seemed to especially favor the greater the dramatics were. Really, the television just gave them a bit of background noise to work with for what had quickly become their routine on days like this.

Conversation began with idle speculation over what could possibly be attributed to the Laguna's abnormal silence. Typically their absence indicated an imbalance within the Trinity, though the distinct lack of demonic beasts running amok the surface ruled that out as a possibility. It probably meant nothing, so they treated it with the same level of concern as such.

Though a more pressing matter on the darker-haired of the two's mind had slowly come to her attention, as she found her gaze drifting from the TV and the current infomercial on display to fixate upon the wall behind it; more specifically, its color.

Not a bad shade of red, per se, but against the light shining through their windows, which there were a _lot_ of, it made the walls look as though they had been bathed in blood.. which also wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though for as often as they had guests over, it didn't exactly set the tone for an inviting environment. Then again, Jeanne _was_ the one who picked out this color.

"I was thinking-" Cereza began.

"That's dangerous,"

If there was ever a limit to Jeanne's wit, Cereza imagined it was much the same as trying to measure infinity.

Cereza feigned a laugh, propping her elbow against the arm of the couch and using her palm for a chin rest. "She's a comedian now? I was going to mention the eyesore that is the color of these walls."

Making Jeanne angry didn't take much effort, given the ticking time bomb that was her temper, and their history together definitely improved her chances of knowing exactly what buttons to push, but the look that she gave Cereza appeared more comical than anything, her brow raised with a dubious smile stretching her lips. "_Eyesore_? I picked it out myself."

"Yes, I know, I was there and helped you paint the walls against my better judgement. Don't feel too bad; not everyone is born an expert when it comes to interior design."

"You like maroon."

"_You_ like maroon."

"You _also_ used to."

Did she? Certainly she could trust Jeanne on that; it was a rare case of someone knowing more about a person than said person did themself. Though not too many people in this world suffered with amnesia caused by centuries spent sleeping beneath a lake, so at least she had a reasonable excuse for being oblivious.

Cereza scoffed, a self-amused grin on her face, as she shrugged. Maybe the color meant something to her five hundred years ago, but time had a way of changing most things. "If we're going that direction, I also used to be a helpless toddler whose only cellmate was a stuffed animal. Perhaps I should leave the task of tending to our feathered friends to you, then?"

"If it meant a vacation from my teaching job."

The two laughed amongst each other as they soon returned to silence, their chattering replaced by the current speaker on the TV, who sounded a little _too_ eager to advertise some innocuous looking jewelry.

"Do you still carry that thing around?" Jeanne suddenly questioned moments later, not looking away from the screen as she did so. It took Cereza a moment longer to realize what she was even referring to.

"Oh, Cheshire? Heavens no. I'm still not entirely sure what became of him beyond being destroyed, unless the little one hid him away somewhere. What of yours?"

.. That was odd. Had she ever brought it up to her? It wasn't as if her late plushie bared remembering after all of these years. Even so, she merely offered a shrug. "Also destroyed, like everything else during the Witch Hunts." Her face and tone made it obvious that she didn't care much for what happened to her precious cat plush.

Unlike Cereza, whose face was immediately overcome with outrage; whether that anger was genuine or not, Jeanne wasn't about to ask, not when she already teased her enough for not knowing how to spot a joke. "Those brutes! What did Charles ever do to them?"

Strangely enough, it was the utterance of its name that fully stumped her. Both of them were fully aware that Cereza's memory existed mostly in fragments, leaving Jeanne the task of filling her in when necesssary, but last she could recall, she hadn't spoken so much as a syllable of its name throughout the course of their time together since she'd first shot out of that lake.

At the very least, the other woman's tone betrayed any attempt at sounding as serious as she looked, which made Jeanne laugh a bit, in spite of the initial surprise.

"I'd wager their reasoning was closer to purging the world of all Umbran property than anything close to a personal grudge. Still, how could you look upon its adorable face and sleep soundly at night, knowing it met its destruction at your hands?"

"That guilt followed them to their graves."

Another period of silence after a brief bit of laughter passed between the two. Jeanne appeared unreasonably interested with what was easy to peg as fake, overpriced jewelry on screen. _Hopefully_ that didn't hint at a future investment.

Soon enough, it was Jeanne that cut through the quiet of the atmosphere once again. "I'm surprised you remembered its name.. or _it_ at all."

It didn't strike Cereza as being particularly strange. Those few interactions with her child self had graced her a fair chunk of her memories back, an appetizer to the meal that was her past, with some even stretching to the day of her and Jeanne's final duel. However, mostly everything in-between was shrouded in a fog, and trying to stare through the haze succeeded only at confusing her more. "How could I not? You always brought him with whenever you visited me. We arranged playdates between the two, don't _you_ remember?" She confidently recalled the events as though they had happened just yesterday.

This time, it was Jeanne's turn to look offended. "Yes.. of course, I remember." Hardly, which was almost hilarious when she was the one with a dependable memory. Jeanne shifted in her seat a bit, eyes still glued to the TV, not yet wanting to look Cereza in the eyes out of apprehension of what face she could be making. "What else do you remember?"

"It's rude to pry."

"As is insulting my tastes."

"Touché. Hmm,"

Most were flashes. Only on occasion would the remembrance of time grace her, typically through dreams, in which she'd inevitably forget shortly after waking. Because of that, telling the difference between a dream and a memory was made difficult. But she could recall the smaller, less inconsequential details.

For instance, she had only recently come to acknowledge that her preferred style of hair as a child was the twin braid, once again in part to her encounters with her younger self. And that it was her mother who always did her hair for her, as she was never once given the opportunity to learn and perfect the art as their clan's black sheep. And.. during those times where her mother was forbidden visitation, which was often enough in her youth that even attempting to visualize her appearance was next to impossible, she received assistance from none other than the heiress to the throne herself, who braided it through the metal bars of her cage just the way she liked, with hands that offered a gentleness she experienced so little of, mirroring her mother's handiwork almost perfectly, always with such keen attention to detail..

... Had she ever mentioned that much to Jeanne?

"Just small things," She settled for something less extensive, "I recall some experiences from our youth."

A sudden wave of energy rushed to Jeanne's face upon that, as she sat up straight in her seat, eyes alight with curiosity, hopeful almost. "Such as?" She inquired with the slightest hint of urgency to understand. The sudden change in disposition didn't go unnoticed by Cereza, but she couldn't figure out the reason why. Maybe she wasn't the only one whose memory seemed to thwart her as of late.

"My hair," Her hand came up to brush aside the few loose strands from her visage, tucking them behind her ear, just as Jeanne used to do for her. "You often styled it for me. And.." Though the memory was faded, like staring into an aged painting, the finer details rendered almost obscure, the joy of sharing any waking moment in Jeanne's presence was a feeling that overcame the cruelty of time's passage. "Whenever I found myself in need of company," Even into their years of early adulthood, Jeanne never broke her routine, always finding time amidst the frequent demandings of her peers, just to spend those rare moments of peace beside her, "-you were always there," Reaching between the bars of her cage to brush her hair, she'd weave her hair through her fingers, treating her with the same kindness that she'd always shown her throughout their youth. There, the two would eventually face each other, their eyes hidden behind the coverage of their masks, all but hiding the warmth of their gazes. The soft touch of Jeanne's palm against her face would welcome her, her thumb tracing circles on her cheek, and she'd lean in, holding their clan's outcast as close as the bars separating them could allow her..

"And-"

_.. and kiss her._

Suddenly, their apartment in the thick of winter felt very hot. Her face must have been the same shade of red as Jeanne's jumpsuit, and if it wasn't, it certainly felt that way, with heat flooding to her cheeks in response to what felt like a false memory.

Jeanne must have noticed it, too. Or the anticipation of awaiting the next chapter to an incomplete story was too much to bear, because now she was staring at her as though she was expecting something. "And?" Jeanne asked, her voice slightly elevated.

Perhaps she was remembering certain events wrong. Her memory was nowhere near credible enough to rely on. In the unlikely event that what she recalled even was accurate to their history, that would place the occurrence at least five odd centuries ago, long before the fall of their clan, before she.. left Jeanne alone, to fend for herself.

Realistically, if Jeanne were to still feel anything towards her, resentment was the first word that came to mind. And she couldn't exactly blame her, either.

Her lips moved to say something, briefly considering the truth, but in the end, she looked away, lifting her chin to the ceiling, acting as if she were deep in the throes of contemplative thought, before shaking her head, somewhat grateful of the fact that her five century long dip in that lake hadn't completely stripped her of her acting skills.

"And.. that's about it."

At that revelation, there was a moment where something resembling disappointment flashed across Jeanne's face, though it hardly lasted long enough for most with an average eye to notice. Thankfully she had looked away before then, otherwise that brief lapse might have opened the door to an interrogation. The platinum blonde let out a sigh that seemed to relax the tension in her muscles as she returned her attention to the TV and leaned back into the couch, a hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

Annoyed? Not unusual, but the timing felt inappropriate. As Jeanne fell back, Cereza lurched forward, a Cheshire-curious glint in her eye.

"Something troubling you, dearest?"

The use of a pet name at this time almost felt like a kick to the ribs, whether that was her intention or not.

Outside of a curt shake of her head, Jeanne gave little response toward the teasing that would sate the other woman's curiosity, still remaining blank in the face.

"Simply reminiscing, is all."

"And leaving me in the dark?"

Silence. Forget confusion, now Cereza was almost offended that there was something the other woman was refusing to let on. She gave Jeanne's shoulder a playful squeeze and lightly shook her some, in much the same way a whining child would, which didn't fail to amuse Jeanne. The Cereza from all those centuries long since past immediately came to mind, the Cereza that sobbed over the slightest inconvenience and treated even the slightest gesture of kindness like it was a gift worth treasuring.

"How cruel of you, Jeanne; as though a puzzle can be solved when someone is hoarding the pieces."

Jeanne reached over to gently remove the hand from her shoulder, placing it back in Cereza's lap, like she wasn't competent enough to do it herself. "They don't involve you, rest assured."

"Don't involve me? You must think me a fool to believe that." If only she were as gullible as she was persistent. The continued questioning was causing old memories of her own to resurface that she couldn't _bare_ remembering when Cereza was this close to her.

"Not to imply you're forgettable, even remotely so," She assured, masking her attempt to change the flow of conversation under the guise of a compliment, that which she meant wholeheartedly, "Forgetful is more appropriate." Ending the praise on a light jab was perfectly in line with Jeanne's style, and the brief laugh that left Cereza's lips gave the former heiress hope that this marked the end of their conversation.

"You have the power to change that."

But no.

Her lungs had started to ache from how often she had gathered her breath and held it there. She looked over at Cereza, their gazes locking together, and this time, it was Cereza who was staring back at her, the amusement in her face replaced by anticipation. It mirrored the same look of curiosity found on the faces of her own students whenever they asked a question during class.

But this wasn't a question Jeanne could answer so easily.

Feelings were predisposed to fade and some bits of history didn't bare remembering. No sense in digging up chronicles of their past that were best left forgotten about, if it risked compromising what they already had. Even if their relationship could never return to the way it once was, just being around her was enough. Knowing that she was here, far from the reaches of what was once a watery tomb, sharing every experience that came with being one of the last of their kind to remain in this world, both good and bad, all beside her..

.. it was enough.

"Some other time, Cereza. It's rude to pry."

If Cereza had any intention to question further, the stray arrow that shot through their apartment mere moments afterward ruined all chances of an answer, alongside what now remained of their living room window.

**Author's Note:**

> haha women am i right ladies?
> 
> genuinely considering making a second chapter for this to make up for its lackluster quality but idk yet i just did Not feel like throwing the whole fic away
> 
> also the t rating is literally just for the fact that it's bayonetta and a G rating felt weird LMAO
> 
> if you actually made it this far then thank you for reading


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